One step from fallin off one step from blowing up
Labels had the pimp hands and said I wasn’t hoe enough
Locals said I wasn’t known enough to blow it up
I don’t remember you growin up
Shows w a couple thousand and shows where nobody was showin up
But I still show n prove like the mic stand was holdin me up
Find the inner chi w synergy
Disappear you remember me like banksy identity
Graciously drop the dead weight and the fatty tissues
Grown man but still got daddy issues
Who gon help me
But this mic and the beat
To people that only listen when it’s white in the street talk
I’m Trynna breach right to my peak
Road to success
Nikes on my feet keep the cypha complete
I was never the popular type
So it’s always been my talent that got me no hype
S/o to the vickers prolly saved my life
While momma was working late nights
I was only Trynna get right
Random thoughts feelin like a big city night slicker
Roamin 8th ave lookin for thick pretty white bitches
How you doin btw w ya designer clutch
Money is the root but it still says in God we trust
I’m just Trynna head home she asked now where’s the ride for us
24 hour service provided by the Papi bus
W a mixed gyro from the finest halal truck
But you don’t mess w truck food?
You gon learn today
Sometimes I’m like fuck honest I need me an earning pay
W the max pay out
A 9-5 is played out
But it’s an oxy moron thinkin you gon trap ya way out
Saw it at an early age
My older brothers rockin gold rope chains on any grimey street in Newark
That Jamaican shit
Take over blocks that’s how you make a flip
Never wanted to rap for the sake of it
Ain’t no replacin it
For that feelin I’m chasin
Fuck makin it
most these niggaz is fakin it
I was writin Trynna get fucking hotter than satans dick
Don’t take it personal dog
My experience most Niggaz is fake that’s why my circle so small
So if you different than the rest don’t mistake it as weakness
Gotta learn yaself you either wake or you sleep nigga

– LYRICS –
[Hook]
The streets is down to ride when it’s on (When it’s on)
Talking how you talking, get you gone (Get you gone)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
I been getting money from before (From before)
Matter of fact, get my money out the floor (Out the floor)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)

[Verse 1]
The streets ain’t never been hidin, we riding
Duct tape on a licence plate when we see a nigga sliding
Choppers in the window when we find him
It’s money to be made when we find him
Dinner on me at Benihana’s
Just rapping, and I seen three commas
Fucking bad bitches in they vaginas
Juicy mane, be honest
My .45 is harmonic
Weed, buying more chronic
My Prada suit is black diamond
Tired of shitting on niggas, I’m bout to vomit
Champagne with my omelet
They say I’m still using ebonics
But I’m still capping these commas
Niggas think that they nino
Juicy man got a ego
Bet your life in my casino
My Cuban link is a kilo
Got a mansion out in the valley, I still keep my heat on
Too many diamonds and rupees in my chains, looking like hot cheetos

[Hook]
The streets is down to ride when it’s on (When it’s on)
Talking how you talking, get you gone (Get you gone)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
I been getting money from before (From before)
Matter of fact, get my money out the floor (Out the floor)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)

[Verse 2]
It ain’t no nigga like me
Who still spending millions from the ’90s
I can spend my own millions just to sign me
Walking in the white house in a black tee
Get lost in my time piece, My wrist priced out the Bugatti
Icing on the cake with the glaze on
I be at the Oscars with my Jays on
Watcha saying homes?
I be in the kitchen with the good shit
Getting my Bobby Flay on
Duffel bag in the Ferrari
Top down, switching foreign lanes on a Friday
Baddest bitches, erotic. Blowin’ light cause I got it
If my goons knew how to swim they’d be sharks mixed with piranhas
Fashion shows out in Paris, all my weed is designer
I don’t talk business on the phone
If the money ain’t texting I ain’t home
It’s not up to me how your bitch getting home, I fucked her
She just wanted Juicy on the night that you loved her
Knock knock, nigga don’t you dare
Niggas in the grass with their choppers in the air

[Hook]
The streets is down to ride when it’s on (When it’s on)
Talking how you talking, get you gone (Get you gone)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
I been getting money from before (From before)
Matter of fact, get my money out the floor (Out the floor)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)

[Verse 3]
Crack a nigga head with the Ace of Spades
Worldstar put you on the front page
Congratulations, you finally made it
Pussy nigga, you finally famous
These rap niggas, these rap niggas
In real life ain’t moving shit
Half the shit just sound good
You niggas living in a movie clip
20 years in, you new to this
I’m a shark nigga, you a tuna fish
All my cars got smart start
Damn bitch, I’m stupid rich
Stupid bitch, that’s hella paid
Promethazine in my lemonade
Got a private loft in MIA
No competition I’m in my lane
Edit the description to add:
Historical context: Historical context.
An explanation of the overall story (e.g. “In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who…”)
The sample used for a beat.

– LYRICS –
[Hook]
The streets is down to ride when it’s on (When it’s on)
Talking how you talking, get you gone (Get you gone)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
I been getting money from before (From before)
Matter of fact, get my money out the floor (Out the floor)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)

[Verse 1]
The streets ain’t never been hidin, we riding
Duct tape on a licence plate when we see a nigga sliding
Choppers in the window when we find him
It’s money to be made when we find him
Dinner on me at Benihana’s
Just rapping, and I seen three commas
Fucking bad bitches in they vaginas
Juicy mane, be honest
My .45 is harmonic
Weed, buying more chronic
My Prada suit is black diamond
Tired of shitting on niggas, I’m bout to vomit
Champagne with my omelet
They say I’m still using ebonics
But I’m still capping these commas
Niggas think that they nino
Juicy man got a ego
Bet your life in my casino
My Cuban link is a kilo
Got a mansion out in the valley, I still keep my heat on
Too many diamonds and rupees in my chains, looking like hot cheetos

[Hook]
The streets is down to ride when it’s on (When it’s on)
Talking how you talking, get you gone (Get you gone)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
I been getting money from before (From before)
Matter of fact, get my money out the floor (Out the floor)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)

[Verse 2]
It ain’t no nigga like me
Who still spending millions from the ’90s
I can spend my own millions just to sign me
Walking in the white house in a black tee
Get lost in my time piece, My wrist priced out the Bugatti
Icing on the cake with the glaze on
I be at the Oscars with my Jays on
Watcha saying homes?
I be in the kitchen with the good shit
Getting my Bobby Flay on
Duffel bag in the Ferrari
Top down, switching foreign lanes on a Friday
Baddest bitches, erotic. Blowin’ light cause I got it
If my goons knew how to swim they’d be sharks mixed with piranhas
Fashion shows out in Paris, all my weed is designer
I don’t talk business on the phone
If the money ain’t texting I ain’t home
It’s not up to me how your bitch getting home, I fucked her
She just wanted Juicy on the night that you loved her
Knock knock, nigga don’t you dare
Niggas in the grass with their choppers in the air

[Hook]
The streets is down to ride when it’s on (When it’s on)
Talking how you talking, get you gone (Get you gone)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
I been getting money from before (From before)
Matter of fact, get my money out the floor (Out the floor)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)
You don’t know my nigga, you don’t know (You don’t know)

[Verse 3]
Crack a nigga head with the Ace of Spades
Worldstar put you on the front page
Congratulations, you finally made it
Pussy nigga, you finally famous
These rap niggas, these rap niggas
In real life ain’t moving shit
Half the shit just sound good
You niggas living in a movie clip
20 years in, you new to this
I’m a shark nigga, you a tuna fish
All my cars got smart start
Damn bitch, I’m stupid rich
Stupid bitch, that’s hella paid
Promethazine in my lemonade
Got a private loft in MIA
No competition I’m in my lane
Edit the description to add:
Historical context: Historical context.
An explanation of the overall story (e.g. “In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who…”)
The sample used for a beat.